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After she left, Jack and Kate cleaned up, and said little. Kate went to bed, tried to read, but couldn’t. She spent a restless night and awoke the next morning feeling groggy.
When she went to the kitchen, Jack and Sara were there. He was looking over a set of blueprints. Sara’s eyes were red and she looked like she hadn’t slept.
Kate mumbled good morning, then sat down to her bowl of cereal.
Jack pushed his p
lans aside. “I have an idea. I have a couple of boxes of scraps in the shop that I’ve been meaning to give to Charlene, and her house needs some repairs. Why don’t we meet for lunch then go visit her? And take pictures.” He looked at Kate. “She has a couple of horses, a lot of chickens, and a big screen house full of lettuce. It’s a nice place.”
“And she makes birdhouses,” Kate said, her spirits beginning to lift.
“As long as ‘she’ isn’t there,” Sara added.
Kate groaned and Jack shook his head. They knew she meant Tayla and they were giving Sara no sympathy.
“Okay, okay,” Sara said. “Chickens win over enemies.” She looked at Kate. “What our Silent Hero here isn’t telling you is that he built—and designed—everything. Horse barn, chicken coop, Charlene’s studio, and a screen house with concrete beds that can withstand a hurricane.”
“Did you?” Kate asked.
Jack smiled modestly.
“All for your crush on Charlene. I want to meet her. And her ugly husband.”
“Ugly?” Sara said. “You should see Leland. Suave, sophisticated, and very intelligent. I only met him once but—”
Jack cut her off. “Hate to interrupt your fan club but do you two want to go or not? Or maybe you don’t want to be seen with a man who wears a tool belt and drives a truck.”
“Oh, Jack.” Kate was batting her lashes. “I just love your hammer. And all those nails. What woman could resist?”
Jack stood up. “Be here at noon. We’ll go to the Brigade for lunch. Unless you two ladies are so dainty you have to have Los Olas.” He didn’t wait for an answer but went down the hall to his room.
“What’s Los Olas?” Kate asked.
“Gorgeous. High-end. We’ll have to do a girls’ day there.”
“Can’t wait.”
* * *
Charlene lived in tiny, rural Southwest Ranches, a place that used to be all small farms. But rich people had bought most of the land, torn down the little farmhouses, and put up mansions.
Stirling Road, which ran through the area, had a speed limit so low that runners were faster than the cars. But children on horses, sauntering tortoises, and families of ducks took precedence over motorized vehicles.
Charlene’s house was set back off the road, down a quarter-mile driveway that was full of potholes. Compared to the neighbors, her house was small. Jack had remodeled and expanded the original farmhouse, and the old-world Spanish exterior was lovely. When they arrived, Charlene was inside on the phone, so Jack took them around. He tried to not let his pride show but Kate and Sara saw it.
Close to the house was an L-shaped building with a deep, shady courtyard surrounded by fruiting citrus trees in big pots. Jack said it was Charlene’s studio and he’d let her show it.
The chicken coop was like a small house. It had two doors in front, each one leading into its own fenced area.
“When the grass on one side is worn down, Charlene switches to the other side,” Jack said. He sounded proud.
The screen house was sixty feet long, with beds that were full of a large variety and color of salad plants. “Charlene sells to top restaurants all over the city.”
He walked ahead of the women. Kate whispered, “He sure does like her, doesn’t he?”
“It appears so.” Sara seemed as surprised as Kate was.
There was a pond, some trees, and behind a copse of trees was what had to be the cutest barn ever built. It was small, with a steeply pitched roof and a covered area to one side. Inside were two stalls and wide double doors that opened at both ends. A mare recognized Jack and trotted out of a shady, fenced area to snuggle her head against his shoulder. He pulled an apple from his pocket and held it out to her as he stroked her head.
